


i can resist everything except temptation

by goodboysweaterTM



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bar Scene, Deal with a Devil, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Grad Student!Rey, Grad Student!Rose, I want rose to be my best friend, Rey & Rose Tico Are Best Friends, Reylo - Freeform, Supernatural Elements, alcohol consumption, devil mind tricks, devil!ben, tags to be added for future smut, women in STEM
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23709307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodboysweaterTM/pseuds/goodboysweaterTM
Summary: “What about making a deal with the devil?” Rose asks, and Rey would think she was joking if not for the hard expression on her face.“What?” Rey asks, incredulous.Rey just gapes at her for a moment and then Rose cracks a smile, the serious moment is broken. They descend into laughter once again. The suggestion is forgotten as they move onto a new bottle of rosé and get up to dance to Rey’s 2000s hits playlist.That’s the funny thing about the devil though, he always comes when you call his name.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 14
Kudos: 88





	i can resist everything except temptation

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to hell ;) This work was born from a [microfic](https://twitter.com/bensoloisatop/status/1237249729123123202?s=20) I wrote in March and grew from there. This is my first multi-chapter fic so bear with me as I do my best to update regularly. There isn't any smut yet but there will be in future chapters, so stay tuned. 
> 
> A thousand thanks to my incredible beta [reylogarbagechute](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reylogarbagechute)!
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/187668241@N04/49786821951/in/datetaken/)  
> 

“I can resist everything except temptation.”

-Oscar Wilde

\---

Rey is broke. The “couponing like no one’s business” and “picking up free furniture from Craigslist” kind. And she is tired. She wants to buy the $6 basket of organic raspberries at the corner market and the pair of sparkly boots that keep popping up in her recommended ads. She’s thought about doing all sorts of things to make some money: donating her eggs, taking a shit ton of online surveys, and even selling feet photos. 

But she’s also a graduate student so she can’t really do any of those things. Some days it feels like flushing money straight down the drain but most days it feels like something truly worth fighting for. Rey’s research is everything. It’s _exciting_ to be working in the artificial intelligence field and to be sharing her passion with her undergraduate students. Rey knows she’s better off than most. Hell, she’s better off than she was only a few years ago, fresh out of the system and living in a car. She’s got a scholarship and a roof over her head and food to fill her stomach—she’s surviving. But she doesn’t just want to survive, she wants to live.

This is the topic of conversation on Friday evening during girls night with Rose. They’re sprawled out on Rose’s futon couch and wrapped in an assortment of plush blankets. A bag of sour cream and onion chips sits open on the coffee table next to a tub of red vines. 

Rose was the first friend that Rey made when she started her PhD program at the University of Coruscant. She stood out in Rey’s natural language processing class, a short woman in a bright yellow romper with sparkly star clips in her hair and a bubbly voice that spit out whip smart answers. Later she was surprised, and honestly relieved, to see her already at work in the artificial intelligence lab on Rey’s first official day on the research team. After she and the rest of the newbies were given a tour of the lab and introduced to the faculty leadership, the woman waltzed over with a squeak of her sneakers and a million watt smile.

“Hi! I’m Rose,” she beamed, thrusting her hand out. “You’re in my nat lang class right?” 

Rey nodded and slid her own hand to Rose’s as she responded, “I’m Rey. It’s good to meet you.”

“I’m so glad to have another woman on the team,” Rose admits. “It’s just Kaydel and I right now and we could use some more intelligence around here.”

She rolls her eyes and snorts. Rey joins in with a laugh. After that they become fast friends. They share tips for how to teach an undergraduate discussion session and the best places for cheap, but delicious, ramen in town. Sometimes they study with Kaydel, or picnic with the research team, but most often it’s just the two of them. Rose shows her how to make a delicious banana cinnamon bread and Rey introduces her to classic old Hollywood films. They slip into a comfortable routine of friendship and Rey is so glad that she has someone like Rose to rely on.

They’re three glasses into a cheap bottle of sparkling wine as they descend into a fit of giggles. Rose has brought out her set of glittery, plastic champagne glasses and the room is starting to blur at the edges of Rey’s vision. They joke about ways to make an extra buck and it doesn’t take long for them to blow past the usual list. They’ve already crossed off starting an online candle-making business and adding another roommate to their cramped living spaces when a lightning bolt idea hits Rose. She straightens, as if trying to gear up for the seriousness of what she is about to say next, and sets her nearly empty glass on the coffee table. She hiccups.

“What about making a deal with the devil?” Rose asks, and Rey would think she was joking if not for the hard expression on her face.

“What?” Rey asks, incredulous.

“Hear me out!” Rose exclaims, waving her arms. “I feel like it could solve a lot of our problems. What’s having to do someone’s bidding for a while in the face of getting everything you could possibly want?” 

The image floods her mind before Rey can stop it. A warm and bright house where people gather. The embrace of someone who loves her. The sounds of laughter and chatter surrounding her. The unequivocal feeling of being home. She tries to push it away.

“You can’t be serious Rose,” Rey blurts and places her own glass on the tabletop.

“Think about it. You could build your own private laboratory” Rose counters. “Or roll around in piles of cash!”

Rey just gapes at her for a moment and then Rose cracks a smile, the serious moment is broken. They descend into laughter once again. The suggestion is forgotten as they move onto a new bottle of rosé and get up to dance to Rey’s 2000s hits playlist.

That’s the funny thing about the devil though, he always comes when you call his name.

\---

The next week passes by in a blur of late nights and slaving away at code in the lab, but by Thursday night, Rey is finally done with her dreaded research presentation. Rose, being the smarter of the two, was on her way home to finally sleep but Rey had wanted to celebrate. She stumbles into the bar on third street, exhausted. It’s fancier than the places she usually goes to with Rose, where the drinks are cheap and her sneakers stick to the floor, but she decided she deserved to treat herself. This lounge, “The Lair” she knows based on the ornate sign that hangs outside, is filled with red velvet couches and gold metallic tables. The entire room is cast in a crimson glow and flickering candles add illumination throughout the space. Nearly every seat is taken by men in well-tailored suits and women in an assortment of sparkly dresses. She would feel out of place on any other night but she still has on her best silk camisole, black pencil skirt, and nude chunky heel outfit that was chosen for the benefit of the faculty board.

For a moment she thinks she isn’t going to be able to find anywhere to sit, but there’s a single open stool at the bar. It looks like a beacon of hope to her tired feet. Except that a very tall, very wide man has his shining dress shoe propped up on its legs. She grumbles a bit as she makes her way over. _Men_ , she sneers in her head. 

“Excuse me,” she calls as she comes to a stop right behind the seat. Up close she can see just how _thick_ the muscle of his thigh that strains against his slacks is. But he doesn’t notice her.

“Sir,” she fumes, exquisite thighs forgotten. “Can you please move your foot?” 

He seems to realize that someone is trying to get his attention because he turns to face her. His warm brown eyes meet hers for a moment and then he is looking behind himself, checking to see if someone is standing to his right. But no one is there so he swivels back to her, a confused expression gracing his elegant face. He seems to not understand why or _how_ she is talking to him. 

Rey blinks at him a few times, face stoic and arms crossed over her chest. His eyes pass up and down her form, and she tries not to squirm underneath the heat of his glare. He seems to snap out of it then, and the moment is gone. He clears his throat as he lifts his foot and places it on the ground. 

“Thank you,” Rey huffs as she slides onto the stool. She can feel his curious gaze on the side of her face as she adjusts in the seat and removes her blazer.

“You must really want it bad huh?” he comments from beside her. His voice is deep and smooth, and she may have even enjoyed the warm quality of it if it weren’t for the way he’s just insulted her.

“Excuse me?!” she responds, indignant.

“A drink,” he explains, his facial expression not having changed at all. He isn’t making a move, she realizes and the anger wooshes out of her.

“Oh,” she mumbles softly. The man waves the bartender over with two thick fingers, which she dutifully tries not to notice, and he turns to her once again.

“What’ll you have?” he asks, slapping a glossy black card on the counter. It’s nearly the same color as the ridiculously well-tailored suit he’s wearing which looks like it probably costs half a year’s worth of her rent. 

“Oh no,” Rey protests, keenly aware of the way the buttons on his crisp white shirt can barely contain his chest. “I can get my own--”

“Please,” the man interrupts her. “I insist.” His eyes seem to stare right through her now and she holds back a shiver. But she isn’t scared, doesn’t feel like he’s trying to come on to her. Mostly, she is curious.

“Ok,” she relents after a moment. “I’ll have a whiskey. On the rocks.” The corners of his luscious mouth tilt at that and he orders the same for himself. It does something to her, the way his whole face seems to brighten with the small movement. She wonders idly what it might look like if he grinned. 

“Corellian,” he tells the bartender and only a few moments later a crystal glass of honeyed liquid is placed in front of her. The single large ice cube sways a little as she brings it to her lips and takes a sip. She nearly groans as the alcohol leaves a simmering trail down her throat. It’s decadent and most likely the best whiskey she’s ever had.

“Fuck,” Rey sighs. “That’s smooth.”

He lets out a chuckle and there’s another hint of that heart-stopping smile. Now it’s his turn to take a sip and she can’t help but watch the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. She doesn’t know anything about this man but she wants to, oh does she _want_ to. He beats her to the punch.

“So what brings you out tonight?” he asks, all attention on her with the intensity of the noon sun.

“I’m celebrating,” Rey tells him, a sweet smile on her face. “I presented my research today.”

“Ah,” he says. “Tell me about it.” She brightens and sits a little straighter. Rey loves talking about her work. It’s exhausting and frustrating and sometimes painful but it’s also fascinating and mind boggling and _fulfilling_.

“I work in an artificial intelligence lab,” she starts. “We’re studying how AI can be made to think as quickly and efficiently as human brains while synthesizing much more data.”

He is silent, inquisitive as he studies her. His sparkling eyes slide up and down the length of her once more. This time she manages not to squirm. For a moment she thinks he’s going to tell her one of the things she’s heard a million times before: that she looks too pretty to know what she’s talking about, that she seems so young to be working on something as complex as AI, but he surprises her once again. 

“I’ve read about the project,” he remarks, eyes sparkling. “I just didn’t know they were actually hiring competent researchers.” 

She laughs, head thrown back and carefree. When she looks back at him he’s frozen with an unrecognizable expression on his face, mouth hanging slightly open. Before Rey can figure out what it means he clears his throat and takes a big gulp of his drink. 

“I just joined the team,” she explains as she tosses a chunk of hair over her shoulder. “This is my first term as a grad student. And, I guess, as a T.A. too.” 

“Out on a school night, Ms. Niima?” he tuts. “How very _irresponsible_ of you.”

The words sound dirty coming from him. She hopes the blush creeping onto her cheeks isn’t noticeable in the dim lighting of the bar. From the way his eyes quirk when his eyes pass over her face, she thinks he sees it. But he doesn’t say anything. The alcohol is buzzing in her head and she can’t think very long about the fact that she doesn’t remember telling him her name. The thought slips away as he turns to flag the bartender for another round.

She’s a few more drinks in when he asks her what she somehow thinks he’s wanted to ask for the entire night. It’s easy to answer this stranger as the liquor swims in her head. 

“What do you want, Rey?” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind the shell of her ear. It’s the first time he’s touched her and it spreads liquid warmth through her whole body. There’s a red glint in his eyes when he stares into hers. It almost looks like flames dance around his pupils and in her inebriation Rey attributes it to the mood lighting of the bar. Her whole body is glowing with soft heat and she can’t remember the last time she felt so relaxed. This might be the most comfortable she’s felt with another person. So she tells him.

Tells him how she doesn’t want to struggle anymore, because she’s had to for far too long. She doesn’t want to worry about how she’ll come up with rent again or if she has enough in her budget to buy a new pair of sneakers when hers have just one too many holes. She wants to go to brunch downtown and give Rose an extravagant birthday present and buy fresh squeezed juice and a bouquet of flowers at the farmers market. She wants to travel around Europe and pick out a set of curtains from a catalog and own something that’s truly all her own. The words don’t stop spilling out of her mouth until she’s aired every little last desire. Except for the one that sits so deep it’s nearly in her heart itself. The desire to be loved. That one remains all her own.

He never interrupts her even though she feels like she’s been talking for hours. His wide shoulders are turned towards her, straining against the silky fabric of his jacket, as he listens attentively. His face is so open, expression soft and warm. It almost seems like he cares about what she has to say. And afterwards, when she takes a deep breath and nearly falls out of her chair, he slides her a glass of water and sits with her until she sobers up. 

She lets him pay the tab and gets to admire the elegant structure of his face and the pretty pattern of moles that adorn it while he does so. Then this beautifully mysterious man orders her a cab and escorts her outside. His hand presses against her back and when she realizes just how much of her torso it spans, she stumbles a bit. This causes him to grip her tighter and it does nothing to help her already weak knees.

Belatedly, Rey realizes she knows no more about him than when she arrived at the bar. She spent the whole night talking about herself and hadn’t noticed. There had been something about the way he looked at her, the way he listened, that had her wanting to tell him everything. She thinks she ought to ask him something before the night is over.

As she slips into the backseat of the cab, through the car door he has just so nicely opened for her, it is the only thing she can think of, distracted by the phantom heat of his palm on her lower back.

“I didn’t catch your name,” Rey protests, peering up at him as he towers over her on the sidewalk.

For a moment he hesitates and then gently slams the door shut. He meets her eyes through the open window.

“Ben,” he reveals. His hand moves through the waves of his silky tresses a few times and he bites his lip.

“Ben,” she sighs breathily. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”

“Goodnight Rey,” he whispers, hands slipping into the front pockets of his expensive slacks as the car begins to move away. The parting stare of dark brown eyes remains burned in her brain for the rest of the ride home. 

\---

When Rey wakes the next morning it is to a splitting headache and a throat so dry it hurts to swallow. She’s still in last night’s clothes but at least she had the wherewithal to remove her heels in her drunken state. Her skull is pounding so hard that she can’t even remember what happened last night, and she’s not sure if she wants to. 

As soon as she feels like she can move without vomiting, she pads into the kitchen to fill a glass of water and start the coffee machine. With a set of Advil pills swallowed and a mug of steaming coffee in hand, Rey makes her way back to her bedroom. She notices her heels haphazardly thrown in the hallway and a little bit further, her blazer lies in a crumpled heap. Rey sighs as she leans down to pick it up, grumbling about how she’ll have to get it dry cleaned to get the wrinkles out. She shakes it a bit and a business card flutters out. It’s a deep matte black and when she reaches for it she notices how nice the cardstock is. The first side is plain but when she flips it over, she’s confused. There is a red embossed upside down cross at the top center and beneath it, a phone number, 666-2587. 

Suddenly it all comes rushing back. A pair of piercing brown eyes, the burning slide of expensive whisky, the way he seemed to know details about her that she hadn’t revealed, and a question – _What do you want, Rey?_ She can feel the puzzle pieces coming together as her mind hurtles towards the realization. The man she met at the bar last night, _Ben_ , is quite possibly the devil incarnate. At the time she had blamed it on the alcohol but in the light of day Rey knows what she saw. His eyes had _glowed_ when he asked her that question. She had seen the flames that licked across his irises and felt the way that heat had flowed through his fingertips into her body. There’s no scientific explanation for that kind of heat transfer and definitely not for pupils rimmed with fire. It’s a ridiculous thought and yet the truth of it sits heavy in her gut. Perhaps she should feel frightened, or at least wary, but she finds herself curious yet again. He wasn’t what she imagined the devil would be like. His skin wasn’t of a red pallor, he didn’t have horns. He listened to her and he was _kind_. Rey is altogether too hungover to process the way her life has just been irreversibly changed and definitely not on her own.

The line only rings a few times before Rose’s bubbly voice filters in through the speaker. Rey cuts right to the chase.

“I think I met the devil last night,” Rey exhales the words in a rush. There is a beat of silence as she holds her breath.

“Oh my god _finally_ ,” Rose exclaims cheerily.

“I’m serious!” Rey responds. Typical of her best friend to come up with the perfect, breezy response to what is probably the most outrageous thing she’s had to tell another person.

“You know I was kidding when I suggested it last week,” Rose tells her. “I didn’t think you’d actually go out and summon him.”

“Rose please!” Rey is starting to laugh now. The whole situation seems a little bit easier to bear. “Help me!”

“I’ll be right over,” Rose responds and blows her a kiss before hanging up. Rey breathes a sigh of relief. She thinks she might go crazy if she has to figure this out all by herself.

After a long shower, the Advil and coffee have kicked in and Rey feels nearly like a real person again. She’s pacing in her tiny living room when Rose lets herself in, mind working a mile a minute. Bless her, she’s brought blueberry bagels and Rey’s favorite almond honey cream cheese. In between bites of bagel she tells Rose everything. Rey recounts how surprised he was when she came up to him at the bar, how he knew her name without her telling him, and how his eyes glowed and made her tell him everything she had ever wanted when he asked. Rose, a true woman of science, listens intently and takes a few notes. She is surprisingly accepting of the fact that her best friend claims to have interacted with Satan and by the end of it, she really seems to believe her.

“So what do you want to do?” Rose asks when Rey finishes. “I’ll support you no matter what.”

Rey bites her lip and gets up from the worn couch to pace once again. Exasperatedly, she throws up her arms and exclaims, “I don’t know!”

Rose pulls a roll of poster paper, most likely meant for her students, and a pack of glitter pens from her backpack. They begin making a pros and cons list, starting with the cons.

“Accessory to murder?” Rose questions, scribbling across the paper.

“Eternal damnation of the soul,” Rey adds. “That’s a thing right?”

“Hmm. Also supernatural consequences,” Rose hums. 

After the downsides are exhausted they move on to pros.

“Amazing gifts for your best friend,” Rose says with a wink.

Rey rolls her eyes and adds, “No more worrying about money problems.”

“A hot piece of ass,” Rose grins.

“Hey!” Rey sputters.

“What?” Rose asks innocently. “You spent a long time talking about his _warm, brown_ eyes.”

“Everything in my online shopping carts,” Rey says, diligently steering the conversation in another direction. Rose doesn’t say anything. 

Once an extensive pros list is created, they move to venn diagrams and pie charts. Rose names each something ridiculous like “What Rey wants in a Man vs. What the Devil Has” and “Flavors of Gourmet Gelato Rey Could Buy.” By the end of the brainstorm session her apartment walls look like a criminal hideout and Rey still isn’t sure what to do. But she’s curious and at the very least, she wants to know more about him and what it might mean to make a deal with the devil. In the end they both agree that Rey might as well give it a shot. She tries to push down the feeling that he might be able to give her that nearly impossible thing that she wants so desperately: to finally be _home_. She doesn’t dare hope for such a thing. And yet, his eyes held such promise.

Rose sits with her as she dials the number from the card, gripping her hand for support. Her phone rings and rings and finally he picks up with a click. Rey squeezes Rose's fingers.

“Hello.” Ben’s velvety voice makes her insides melt even over the phone.

“Hi, it’s Rey,” she pauses to gather her courage. “I want to make a deal.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think and come say hi + get updates on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/bensoloisatop) :) 
> 
> Also please let me know if there is ever anything I can tag for you!


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